New Beginnings
by MegaBandchick
Summary: Mary Hammonds was labeled the Antichrist since birth for her appearance and autism. In the midst of the Great Depression, her Mother fled and she was kicked out of her home. With little options, she decided to work in a place where dreams came true, Joey Drew Studios. Will the Ink Demon show her who the true demon is? Read and find out!
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello lovely people! This is my attempt at writing Bendy and the Ink Machine fanfiction. If you like it, that means a lot to me and I'm very grateful for your interest. If you don't, that's fine as well and I appreciate you for at least reading this.**

 **Small warning: This story contains brief and vague mentions of sex and child abuse.**

 **Also, I posted this on Tumblr under skyblue199 if you want more info.**

 **That said, onto the story!**

1911

Lampposts buzzed overhead as Mother Shirley Hammonds walked out of the wine shop. Merlot bottles for tomorrow's mass swished and clanked in her arm as she made her way back to the church. She fiddled with the cranberry red glass beads on her rosary with the other hand, praying under the moon and stars against the sound of roaring steam engines from finely polished automobiles.

Shirley was an abbess at the Second Chances Church & Nunnery. The abbess was just a simple country girl from the hot deserts of Texas. Born and raised under the bible's teachings, she quickly learned to worship God through the church like everyone else, but went beyond expectations at a young age. When she was five, she organized an entire sermon on the meaning of joy. At six years old, she composed a new Christmas gospel and got the church chorus to sing it during mass. She went from being a churchgoer to an alter girl at age seven. From adolescence, she had a talent of bringing peace and comfort to those in need. From volunteering in soup kitchens to teaching children how to read, she became known as Texas's angel. Realizing she had a gift, she decided that other people across America needed salvation from sin. So, with her family's blessing, her small town donated her a ticket to the biggest cesspool of temptation and sin in America on her 18th birthday; New York City.

Despite her young age, the nunnery opened their doors and initiated her into their church. Her prayers and services were noticed by the former abbess, earning her admiration. It didn't take long for her to rise up among her peers. Within three years, after the former abbess passed away, Shirley became the new abbess of her nunnery, leading her and her fellow God worshipers of the church.

As she walked under another lamppost, a piece of her robe snagged itself on a crack, catching her off-guard. Tossing the bottles aside, she broke the fall with her hands, scratching them in the process. The bottles shattered as Merlot stained the pavement and trickled its way to a sewer drain. Her palms stung against the open air, making her hiss under her breath. The large forming bruises on her legs made her wince when she moved. Before she could try to stand, a gloved hand extended itself to her from the darkness. A light pink blush crossed her cheeks when he stepped into the light. She was entranced by her rescuer's dashing smile. Her eyes wandered to his slicked back hair that adorned a fedora. She noticed how his gray pinstriped suit outlined his tall slim figure. His large polished black leather spat shoes glistened under the lamppost's light, making her gulp with anticipation. His eyes were hidden by his fedora's shadow, but she knew that he was gazing at her with intent. She placed her hand into his, despite the pain, tenderly gripping it as she stood up.

"Are you alright, Sister?" he asked, placing a kiss on her hand. "That looked like a nasty spell."

Shirley recoiled her arm as if his kiss burned like a freshly lit stove.

"I'm fine. Nothing a little prayer can't heal. Now, if you'll excuse me."

But the stranger stepped in front of her, blocking her way. Shirley's blush grew as he persisted. She wouldn't admit it, but she was starting to think unholy thoughts about the man.

"Wait, at least let me patch you up. Wouldn't want people thinking you're a simp," he said, stepping closer to her.

With some reluctance, Shirley offered her hands to him. He took out two handkerchiefs and wrapped her palms, his touch lingering on each hand. Shirley bit her lip the longer he stayed.

"You know, Sister, there's this shindig a few skips from here. Maybe we could get to know each other?"

"Shirley."

"Pardon?"

"My name is Shirley, not Sister."

"Shirley, huh? Isn't that the bee's knees? Well, Shirley, if you're not busy, I—"

"No," she said, taking a timid step away from the beautiful stranger, "My God and Sisters need me to prepare for tomorrow. I think He wants me to go now."

"Shirley," he said, stepping closer and pulling her into his embrace, "I think God meant for us to meet."

She breathed in his cologne as she leaned against his chest. Her heartbeat raced and her breath deepened with each passing second. She feebly tried to push the stranger away, yet she yearned for his touch. For the first time in her life, temptation clouded her Lord's teachings. She wanted more. So much more.

"Perhaps, but not like this," she said.

A wicked smile spread across his face, his hands tracing down her back.

"Then let's introduce ourselves like Adam and Eve did."

Shirley smirked as she stretched out her arms and loosely hung them over his toned shoulders.

"You sound more like a demon than Adam."

He grasped her chin and leaned close, his whisky breath intoxicating her senses.

"Well, I can be rather beastly if you prefer."

Whatever hesitation she might have had melted away as he leaned down to meet his lips with hers. Shirley moaned as their passionate kiss deepened. The stranger carelessly removed her vail, running his fingers through her dark brown hair. His touch burned under her skin. Shirley grabbed his tie and made their way into an empty alley, whispering sweet nothings and embracing each other under the moonlight.

Shirley massaged her throbbing head as morning came. She woke up on the pavement with her clothes amiss and her rosary's glass beads decorating the alley floor. The stranger was gone, and in his place was five dollars and the bitter taste of old whisky. Grime stained her robes and last night's mishandlings tattered them to rags.

"That grafter," she said as she tried to salvage the remains of her clothing.

Shirley limped to the nunnery's back door as sunlight peeked over the horizon, wincing with every step. The tiled floor threatened to announce her presence against the high curved ceiling, enhancing every sound regardless of volume. Just as she passed the archives, a few novices could be heard around the corner chattering about a scripture. Shirley crouched behind a nearby statue, holding her hands against her mouth until silence overtook the space again. Sneaking past the other nuns making breakfast, she wobbled down the corridor until she reached her room. A gentle voice called out to her before she could turn the handle.

"Mother Shirley?"

Shirley jumped, making her wince again. Sister Maria Ellison stood behind her, grasping her rosary with her trembling wrinkled hand. Before Shirley came, she was supposed to be the church's next abbess since she was the oldest nun, but gracefully stepped to the side as Shirley took over. She never saw Shirley in such disarray. She reached out to tend to her wounds, but Shirley dashed behind her door with a slam.

"Mother, are you alright? Mother?"

Maria jiggled the doorknob, but it didn't turn. Before Maria could knock, Shirley opened the large oak door a crack.

"Tell the others to start without me. I trust you to lead the prayer, Sister Maria."

"Mother—"

"Now, Sister Maria."

Maria stepped away slowly, contemplating what she saw, but put it in the back of her mind as she followed her Mother's orders. Shirley hid her wounds and limp with a stone face later that afternoon.

* * *

Several weeks later, Shirley kneeled with the other nuns on the altar leading their morning prayer. Their Hail Mary's were interrupted when Shirley threw up into her bible. The nuns carried their Mother to the infirmary, each praying for Shirley's health. After an hour, a nurse stepped out to a herd of nuns demanding a diagnosis. The nurse looked at them with sullen eyes. Shirley's stomach grew rounder and she missed her cycle. She was pregnant.

The nuns pushed the nurse aside and stormed into the room wide eyed. Shirley was crying in a bed wearing a white nightgown, hiding her hands with her face. Her robes laid folded on a chair with her vail on top. She wiped her tears before announcing to her followers:

"I was raped by a demon!"

* * *

1912

After Shirley's pregnancy was announced, she was forced to step down as abbess, making Maria the new Mother of the church. Such an action normally would have anyone excommunicated, but Maria took pity on her, despite her sin. Maria decided to let her stay and raise her child in the church. If it was a girl, she would be raised to be a nun. If it was a boy, he would be raised to be a priest.

As the nuns began preparing for their future member, Shirley's fall from grace left her in shambles. She couldn't eat in the dining hall without thinking that everyone was judging her, even the statues guarding the church. Everyday felt like a punishment, and the baby that occupied her uterus infuriated her to no end. It was as if God made it the personification of her sin. She tried everything to get rid of it. She began to drink more wine, throw herself down stairs, and even slam her stomach against any table corner when no one was looking. Despite her efforts, the baby kept growing as time passed. After nine months, Shirley gave birth to a baby girl, Mary Hammonds, much to the nunnery's pleasure until they saw her face.

In Shirley's efforts to take away her pregnancy, she ended up giving Mary Autism and a hideous complexion. Her right eye was as brown as chocolate with a patch of smooth pale skin above it, but the rest of her face was scarred pink, puckered, and shined in the light. Her left eye had no pupil and was as white as a cloud. Shirley used Mary's appearance to prove that a demon deflowered her and that Mary was the Antichrist. The house of God that welcomed everyone with sanctuary became Mary's prison from Hell.

The nuns feared for their salvation, thus they kept her at arm's length and disallowed her to become part of their congregation. All except Maria. Maria tried her best to give Mary comfort despite her fear. She held Mary when Shirley wouldn't, fed her, bathed her, and taught her how to speak before starting school. She was like the mother Mary wanted Shirley to be.

When Mary was a few years old, Shirley took out her hidden frustration on Mary behind closed doors. Mary was subjected to physical abuse under the guise of the bible for every misdoing, no matter how small, leaving more scars on her back. Of course, since everyone though that she was the daughter of Satan, they turned a blind eye and sang their gospels louder when they even heard Mary cry.

Never the less, no matter how bad the abuse was, Shirley couldn't break Mary's smile. She saw life's small joys, like summer breezes and freshly picked flowers. She tried to tell the nuns about her mother's wrongdoings when she was older, but they either fled or claimed that it was out of love. Although Shirley told her that God despised Mary, she prayed to Him every day for years for one thing: a new life with lots of friends. Her prayer finally came true in 1930.


	2. Chapter 1 Praying for a miracle

1930

Mary was walking home after her last day of school on a flat wooden picket fence as a black street cat missing an eye and a white dog missing its tail trailed behind her. The summer wind blew against her black pinafore dress with white blouse as she kept her balance with black Mary Janes. Her waist length brown hair hid her severely scared left side of her face, leaving her less threatening side exposed. She leapt down and scratched their ears, both brushing her hands with their head. She removed her schoolbag and took out a turkey bone for the cat, a fish bone for the dog, and a crossword puzzle for herself. Both animals bit into their bones graciously. She sat down and leaded against the fence, licking the tip of her pencil. A shiny quarter twinkled in the corner her eye half way through writing soho. She quickly snatched it up and placed it in her pocket.

Since Mary avoided eye contact with most strangers, she looked at the ground like it was an old friend. Over time, she noticed small things that people didn't, like buttons and wrappers. It was then that she discovered she liked collecting shinny coins the most. Some were American coins, others were different types of European currency. To spare herself another scripture beating for daring to have a hobby, she hid her collection in a bible under her bed when her Mother was asleep. But she wouldn't have to hide it for much longer. She would be getting her own room in the nunnery when she turned 18, then she could take out her collection whenever she wanted. It helped keep her mind preoccupied since things became difficult after October 1929.

Closed signs hung in empty shop windows and wooden boards blocked their doors. A lot of kids in school dropped out after the Great Depression. They figured it was best to find a job now than get an education and be jobless. Mary didn't have to worry about that since she was staying at the nunnery, so she was one of the only few students left in the whole school to receive her diploma. Although she had autism, she excelled in her studies. The only thing she lacked was common sense. She could explain an automobile's mechanics, but could not pack her schoolbag without crushing her lunch.

Children and adults alike quickly took note of Mary's presence over the years and learned to avoid her. Aside from the nuns, Mary didn't interact with anyone, crippling her social skills to the point where she avoids eye contact with strangers and twiddles her fingers with anxiety. It didn't help that her title as the Antichrist followed her like a shadow. Mary was alone, but she knew a few ways to ease her loneliness. She often solved puzzles she found in her school's toy box and crosswords in thrown out newspapers. While other kids excluded her from their stickball games, Mary made new paths to travel as she walked back to Second Chances. Each day was a small adventure, eventually finding little animal friends to keep her company. They didn't judge her or try to throw stones like most people in her life. Needless to say, her oddities isolated her from her peers. Well, except for others, but they weren't human.

Squelching footsteps broke the silence as Mary finished her crossword. Koko the clown walked by her wearing his signature long white clown shoes and black one-piece with a black ruffled collar, three pom-pom front buttons, and a cone-shaped cap also with pom-poms.

"Hi, Koko! How are the pictures going?" Mary asked, waving to the tall clown.

Koko waved back in goofy fashion, giving a thumbs up until he hit a stop sign. Mary stifled a laugh as she watched the rubberhosed toon wobble out of sight. Ever since the early 20s, cartoons have been on the rise and getting jobs in the pictures. Mary didn't know how a cartoon studio made ink come to life, but she was fascinated by their larger-than-life personalities. Maybe she could see how it's done when she was an adult.

Mary stood up, patting the dust off her dress. She waved goodbye to her furry friends before tossing out her completed puzzle and skipped down the street. Cartoon cows and foxes sat at cafes and talked with coffee cups in their hands, probably taking a break from Fleischer studios. Cartoon birds and insects decorated the skies with their graceful turns and loops. They waved and said their how do you do's as she made her way past them. For some reason they didn't run away when they saw her. Mary didn't question when good things happened in her life, so she let it be.

Mary stopped skipping as she approached the church. She grinned as she fantasized her little sliver of freedom approaching. She was halfway up the concrete steps with her head held high when the large country wood double doors opened wide. Maria stepped out as the congregation stood behind her. Mary stopped, cocking her eyebrow.

"Is something wrong, Mother Maria?"

Maria's hands shook as she looked at the ground. Tears pooled in her eyes when she looked at her.

"Mary, my child, I'm afraid I bare terrible news," said Maria

Mary looked on with curiosity, beckoning her to continue.

"Your Mother left the church while you were away. She said in passing that the Lord commanded her to help the less fortunate in Germany. We do not know if she plans to return or not. She did take your bible as a memento of you, though."

Mary's eyes widened as a thought crossed her mind.

"Was it under my bed?"

Maria nodded slowly. The look of utter dumfounded misery showed on her face. Mary whimpered and whipped away her flowing tears. Why? Why did she have to take away one of the few joys in her life?

"What's going to happen to me now?"

Maria stepped to the side as another nun came holding a large brown leather suitcase with dark brown belts.

"The congregation and I discussed it and have decided that we cannot offer you anything but our blessing. You must leave now. I am sorry, my child."

Mary's eyes darted back and forth frantically as she hugged herself. Her world came crashing in a matter of minutes and was crushing her chest. Without money, she couldn't rent an apartment. With no jobs available, she would have to sell herself off the street just to make a dollar. Her Mother and the one she considered to be her true Mother were abandoning her in the same day. She needed a miracle.

"Please," Mary whispered, "someone. Help me."

A car horn came blaring down the street, making Mary jump. A black Chrysler B-70 skidded to a halt and out stepped a young man in his 20s wearing an off-white summer suit with brown shoes. He tried to smooth his unkempt blond hair, but gave up when it kept sticking out in odd places. He took out a paper from his car seat and strolled right next to Mary.

"Sorry for the intrusion, but I couldn't help but notice you in distress, miss…"

Mary looked at his shoes as she kept hugging herself.

"Mary Hammonds. What's yours?"

"Oh, my apologies. The name's Bob Martin, but you can call me Bobby. It's lovely to meet you, Mary."

Bobby took Mary's hand and shook it with a firm grip. Mary looked up and blinked at Bobby's familiarity. His sky blue eyes pierced into her own, yet calmed her. Why wasn't he scared?

"Now, if I'm seeing this right, you're looking for work, correct?"

"Yes, why?"

"You see, I work for Joey Drew Studios as Joey's recruiter. It's my job to, as my title states, recruit fellas like you for the chance of a lifetime."

Bobby handed her a yellow flyer with creases framing the outer edges and the studio's logo placed the top.

 _Want to make your dreams come true?_

 _Then come to Joey Drew Studios! We believe that everyone should achieve their dreams and have fun doing it. You'll get to work with other dreamers like you and get paid doing it. Turning away help is not an option for us. If you have a dream, then you're qualified to work with us! Just ask for Bobby. We'll see you there!_

 _Your best pal,_

 _Joey Drew_

"Be gone, devil worshiper! There will be no solicitation here," Maria said as she walked towards Bobby. Maria snatched away the flyer and crumpled it into her pocket.

"It's time to go now, Mary," Maria said as she grabbed her shoulder, but Mary jerked away from her.

"Hold on, what job did you have in mind?"

"There are multiple positions available, but we urgently need people who know how to solve puzzles."

Mary's face lit up at the mention of puzzles.

"And what does this job pay?"

"Ten dollars an hour, along with free residence and three meals a day."

Mary's heart pounded hard against her ribs. It sounded perfect. In just a few moments, she could have a new home and in a cartoon studio no less. Could this be her miracle? There was only one way to find out. She flung her hair to the side with enthusiasm.

"And my face?"

Bobby blinked a few times before straightening his tie and smiling.

"Ma'am, we don't discriminate anyone for any reason. If we did, we'd lose over 200 employees and counting. Besides, what's wrong with a little pink? I think it'll add color in our workplace!"

For the first time in her life, Mary felt something warm and new surging through her body. Acceptance.

"I'm in."

Bobby grabbed her suitcase from the nun and put it in his trunk. With every step Mary took, the more spring she had in her stride. Bobby opened the passenger side door.

"Wait," said Maria, "please, don't go, Mary. It's not too late."

"For what? You told me to go, and I'm going."

"But you weren't supposed to do this. You were supposed to beg me to come back."

Mary stared at her with bewildered eyes before getting her bearings back.

"And how was I supposed to know that? It doesn't make sense to say one thing and mean something else entirely."

"Because I prayed for you to. We could have found you work, like a sexton. I was trying to save you."

"From what?"

Maria grabbed Mary's hand and brought it over her chest.

"From yourself. You can't possibly make it out there alone, my child."

"You knew this and yet you still went along with it, Mother Maria? It's because of you and everyone here that I have to leave."

"Mother Maria, please let her go. Her unholy ways will taint us all if she stays further. I feel burned just looking at her," said the nun that held the suitcase.

Maria kissed Mary's hand and grasped it tighter, shaking.

"I don't think that you were ever Lucifer's child, but you were always my child. I know that I wasn't always there for you, but let me be now. This isn't what you need. You need me."

The robed women whispered to one another unsubtly. Mary pulled away from her again, rocking side to side.

"So what you're saying is that this is your fault."

"What? No, I—"

"This is all your fault. If you really thought that, why didn't you say anything in the first place? You could have stopped her. You could have protected me from her. Do you know how much she hurt me? How much you let her hurt me? You, my Mother, and everyone else have told me that I am the Antichrist since birth and let them believe it. Why are you even telling me this now," asked Mary.

"I'm so sorry, Mary. I wanted to jump in front of her every time she raised her hand, but the Lord forbids us from intervening between parent and child. Surely you remember His teachings? But my love for you is the absolute truth."

"Do you really, or do you love seeing me beg for your help?"

Maria recoiled at her words. She stepped into Bobby's car and slammed the door. Maria kneeled down to Mary's side.

"If I cannot change your mind," Maria said, "at least take this."

Maria shifted her robes to show a silver rosary with ruby lining and matching glass beads. Maria unhooked her rosary and brought it around Mary's neck.

"It was a gift my mother gave to me before I left home. When you pray at night, remember that you'll always have a Mother here, my child."

Mary held the rosary in her palm and traced the cross's outer edges. Something so valuable and sentimental would make anyone cry for joy, but Mary felt nothing. She let the cross fall out of her palm and sat forward.

"I thought I did, once."

Mary rolled her window up as Bobby drove away. Maria stared at the car until it drove out of her sight. Church bells rang in the air as the nuns cheered their way back inside.

"Dear God, what have I done?"


	3. Chapter 2 First Impressions

Blinking lights and signs passed Mary and Bobby as they drove in the streets of Brooklyn. It was a little different than Manhattan, but not by much. The streets were busy, but not to the point where traffic was bumper to bumper. There also seemed to be less toons in studios and more in whatever jobs where available, like waiters and cashiers. Still, the buildings, the cars, and the sky were the same. The only big difference was the absence of the church she once resided in. For a while, car horns and motors buzzed in the air instead of words. Mary looked at the car's interior carpet as she shook her leg and massaged her twitching hands. Bobby peered over at her.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked.

Mary kept fidgeting.

"Yeah, this is normal for me. I have something called autism that makes me move like this and helps calm me down."

"Actually, I was talking about what happened back at the church. Did they really think that you were the Antichrist?"

"Yes, and they still do. I'm sorry, but can we please not talk about it?"

Tears welled in Mary's eyes the more she thought about the church. Mother Maria's words could still be heard ringing in her head. Knowing her Mother abandoned her to starve in the streets. Bobby handed her a handkerchief after she sniffled.

"I'm sorry for bothering you."

"No, no, you're not. I just thought my cologne was suffocating you. It doesn't quite cover up the smell like a shower does."

Mary stifled a laugh and slowed her leg's pace down.

"Hey, there's a smile. It looks great on you."

"Really? My Mother hates it when I do. She told me that my smile seduces married men into eternal damnation."

Bobby turned for a second to hear the punchline. There was none. She was serious.

"It's a good thing I'm single then, huh?" he replied, chuckling. "So, what kind of upbringing did you have?"

"I wouldn't call it an upbringing. It felt more like downgrading than anything."

Bobby drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and whistled. Somehow breaking the ice turned into an avalanche of uncomfortable moments. Mary twisted and scrunched the handkerchief as she pushed her memories aside and took deep breaths. Seconds seemed to drag into minutes as awkward silence filled the space. Mary was the first to speak up.

"So, what's my job going to be?"

Bobby's face lit up again and spoke with vigorous determination in every word.

"Ah, right, that. We need testers to try out our new attraction. Joey calls it a puzzle room."

"Puzzle room?"

"Yeah. It's something Joey came up with one night. It's a little cock-eyed, but fun. You and a few others are going to be locked in a series of rooms until you find a way out using puzzles. See where the name comes from?"

Mary nodded and stopped shaking her leg. Something about puzzle's seemed to put her in a good mood. Perhaps it was the challenge, or the variety that kept her interest. But one thing was certain; when she was in the zone, nothing could stop her until she finished.

"I like puzzles. They make me feel like I can do something right."

Bobby's smile faltered. Just hearing her say that made him question humanity.

"Why do you talk like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like nothing you do is right. Just because you don't have the best looks doesn't mean you should talk as ugly. If you talk like crap, you'll be treated like crap."

Mary gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. Bobby sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He hated making himself sound so ungentlemanly.

"My apologies, I shouldn't curse in front of a lady, but you really need to stick up for yourself more. Belief is a powerful asset in the studio. The more you believe, the more you can achieve, but you've got to believe in yourself first. Do that, and you'll be set for life. And if anyone says otherwise, then introduce them to old righty," said Bobby, flexing his right arm before kissing it.

Mary lowered her hands back to her lap and giggled.

"I don't know who righty is, but I'll try, Bobby. Are you always this helpful?"

"Yup, that's what friends do. We help each other."

It was Mary's turn to look surprised.

"We're friends?"

Bobby flashed another reassuring smile.

"Of course. Just because we're going to work together doesn't mean we can't get to know each other. If you got any questions or want to talk, I'd be more than happy to help."

Mary returned his smile with her own, unafraid and gentle.

"We're here!"

Bobby made a sharp right turn, almost flinging Mary through the door. He skidded to a halt and parked next to the sidewalk. Mary rushed past him when he opened the door for her, shaking like an ill prepared desert dweller in a blizzard. Bowles of laughter escaped his lips at the scene.

Mary calmed down enough to take note of her surroundings. Bricks and mortar stood proud at six stories tall on the street corner it resided on. The studio logo on the flyer was displayed at the front with three reels spinning behind it. Lights silhouetted employees rushing inside to meet deadlines. The entrance had an archway that lead to two sets of double doors, both of which were guarded by two doormen. It was twice the size of Second Chances in both height and width. To others, it looked like another dime a dozen building, but to Mary, it looked like home.

Bobby retrieved her suitcase before hooking his arm into hers, escorting her inside like a true gentleman. The doormen shuddered as they came, but stepped aside none the less.

The main lobby was wide with a hallway on each side. All the upper floors were exposed as balconies and protected with wooden railings. Elevators delivered staff to their proper floors on the right and left walls. A pair of matching wooden curved stairs stood on either side of each hallway. In front of the furthest hallway stood a wooden receptionist desk with a black rotary telephone and a white haired woman sitting behind it frantically organizing and filing a mess of papers with shaky, liver spotted hands. Fluorescent lightbulbs hung overhead and illuminated everything with a slight yellow tint. Faded yellow wooden boards covered the floor and ceiling. All the walls had at least one poster that read "Work Hard, Work Happy" with what appeared to be a smile with horns and gloved hands. Mary spun a few times just to take everything in.

As they made their way inside, people stopped working and studied the pair. Two employees carrying hastily drawn storyboards walking in opposite directions turned their attention on Mary until they collided into each other, scattering months' worth of work onto the floor. A few young female interns delivering coffee to tired animators dropped their pots mid-conversation, nearly scolding their legs and soaking a few drawings on the floor. By the time Bobby and Mary reached the receptionist desk, half the lobby was in frustrated disarray.

Despite the commotion, the receptionist continued to sort and shuffle papers into piles. It wasn't until Bobby knocked on her desk that she finally adjusted her cat eyeglasses with beaded chain and looked up.

"Hello, dearie. It's wonderful to see you again. Any new recruits?"

The old woman stood up and pinched Bobby's cheek, her strength stretched his face into uncomfortable positions.

"Lauren, please, not so hard," he said, pulling himself out of her reach.

He rubbed his cheek gently, a deep shade of red spread across his fair skin in a matter of seconds.

"I would like you to meet Mary, our newest member and dreamer. Will you please call Joey and tell him the good news?"

"Mary. That's a pretty name for a pretty girl."

The woman named Lauren turned to Mary and adjusted her glasses once more before stopping. When her sight set in, adrenalin pumped through her heart as she screamed bloody murder, pushing her chair in front of her and clutching her chest.

"What the hell is that?!"

Surprised from the change in her usual sweet demeanor, Bobby took a step back as Mary fiddled with her hands again.

"Lauren, please calm down," said Bobby, waving his arm up and down slowly like she was a startled animal. "It's just a small deformity, that's all, like your eyesight. You'll hardly see her, both figuratively and literally speaking. She really needs this job."

"Then take her to a freak show, not here!"

"Lauren!"

"I know her type. She's just like those other freaks; parading herself here to get some sympathy, then rob us blind before moving onto the next town. She's practically yanking food from my grandchildren's mouth asking for work. Get her out of here! Now!"

Lauren threw whatever she could get her hands on at her, screaming all sorts of obscenities. For an old lady, she had pretty good aim. Mary ducked behind Bobby to act as a meat shield from flying staplers and coffee cups. Bobby covered his face with Mary's suitcase when his words failed to stop her. Everyone else either watched from a safe distance or continued on their way. Lauren's pitching practice came to an abrupt halt when a door slammed closed, rattling a few windows.

"What is going on in here?!" asked a booming voice.

Mary grasped Bobby's arm until her knuckles were white and took deep raspy breaths. Flashes of her Mother's wrath and similar demanding tone played before her from the demand. Mary trembled, yet she couldn't resist peeking over Bobby's shoulder. From the highest floor stood a man leaning forward against the railing, his arms and hands firmly propped him from falling. She couldn't make out any of his features from the distance, but she at least knew that he was staring daggers at everyone in the room.

The loud man walked out of her sight for a minute before one of the left elevator doors dinged and opened. Mary couldn't believe what she saw. The voice that belonged to the man did not match his stature in the slightest. What Mary imagined to be a young six foot tall man with Dali mustache and trailing thunder cloud was really an average looking, pencil mustache, black bowtie, and big cheese glasses wearing middle-aged man. His button up long sleeved white shirt and black suspenders showed no indication of any muscle, just some skin and bones. The light swirled on his short back and side's haircut, waxed into a position that displayed sophistication, but didn't brag.

He walked to the desk and began to pick up Lauren's ammo. Bobby was quick to join his lead and scrambled to help. Lauren kept opening and closing her mouth like a fish before taking her supplies from Bobby. After giving Bobby the last of the mess, the man turned to Mary. His eyes widened for a moment without anyone noticing before taking his hand into hers with a concerned look.

"I am so sorry for this disrespectful display, sweet heart. Her dress doesn't quite zip all the way up, if you know what I mean," he said, never breaking eye contact. "If there's anything I can do to fix this, just say it."

"It's alright," replied Mary, "normally it takes two seconds for someone to scream and five to throw something. She set a new record."

Mary gave a small laugh. He sighed in relief before turning back to Lauren with a calm sternness in his voice.

"My office. Now."

Lauren didn't put up a fight and practically ran to the elevator, pushing the up button vigorously. She tried to explain herself, but the glare of his glasses was enough for her to get a chill up her spine. Once opened, she pushed past those exiting and stood in the corner until she was lifted out of sight. Bobby walked briskly to the man with a wide grin.

"Joey," Bobby said, embracing the man, "I got another tester for your little project. Mary, this is Joey, the greatest boss New York has ever seen."

"Well," said Joey, rubbing the back of his neck, "I wouldn't say that."

"You're right. Best boss in the world suits you better."

The two laughed and slapped their knees until Bobby had to hunch over and catch his breath.

"It's wonderful to meet you, sir."

"Please, Mary, I've never been keen on formalities. We treat everyone like family here, even the rowdy ones. You can call me Joey."

"Yes, si—I mean Joey. Bobby couldn't stop talking about you on the way here. Nothing but Joey this and Joey that."

"I guess being the best boss ever will do that sometimes. Walk with me, Mary. Take her to the residence wing, will you, son?"

Bobby picked up her suitcase and walked ahead of Mary and Joey to the left hallway. Mary looked back and forth between the two and stumbled over herself to catch up.

"Son? You two are related?"

"Well, no, but after I plucked him from the gutter, he's been nothing short of reliable that I can't help but call him my own. If I had a boy, he'd be just like him. Well, maybe with a better haircut."

Joey ruffled the back of Bobby's head, beaming with pride.

The three stepped out of the hallway and into what looked like a hotel that could use a makeover. The residence lobby was half the size of the main lobby and whatever furniture was there had scratches, dents, and outward bent legs. A mail sorter and key rack were installed in a wall behind a desk with a book placed under one of the legs for much needed support. The wooden floors and panels were the same, but black splotches of a black liquid covered some of the walls and flooring. Another elevator and staircase were installed next to the desk. Bobby walked to the mostly bare key rack and grabbed one of the remaining few, tossing it to Mary.

"Heads up," Bobby said before scribbling her name in a little log book on the desk.

The key hit her chest and slid in and out of her hands before eventually falling on the ground. Joey leaned down to reach for it only to drop something of his own from his back pocket. An inkwell with a skull and crossbones rolled and bumped into her foot as some ink leaked out the top. Joey pounced at the bottle, his pupils constricted to the size of dots as more ink dripped. Such speed and force nearly took Mary down in the process, waving her arms to regain her balance. He knelt on the floor as he scooped up the ink on the side and wiped it back on the rim. After recovering as much precious ink as he could, he stood up and coughed like he had something in his throat.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," said Joey, his voice low and borderline emotionless. "My Father gave this to me when I started the studio, but passed in his sleep before I got to show him the first episode. When he did, I started taking it everywhere with me. Sometimes, I feel like he's watching over me in this bottle and helping my dreams come true from afar. Pretty batty, huh?"

He rubbed his thumb over the skull before putting it back in his pocket. He sighed and picked up the key unceremoniously. Mary stopped staring and fiddled with the key ring. She wanted to ask more questions, but the tension in the room told her now was not the best time.

A metal crescent shape tag on the key ring had the numbers 256 engraved with the same cartoonish smile as the posters. It looked like a cookie with a small bite taken out of it. The slightly rusted metal felt cool between her fingers. No one had used this key in a long time.

"So when do I start this puzzle room thing?"

"After dinner," replied Joey, back to his peppy self. "We're having bacon soup today!"

Mary looked up at him questioningly.

"So soon? Shouldn't I learn some basic training?"

"You'll learn as you work. It would have been sooner if Lauren didn't make such a spectacle of herself, but what can you do? Come to my office when you're done and I'll take you to the puzzle room. For now, enjoy yourself, Mary. I hope we can make your dreams come true."

Joey gave her a slightly too firm but quick handshake and left, walking with urgency in every step. Bobby pressed the elevator button and whistled, completely undeterred by Joey's ambiguous demeanor.

"Did that seem odd to you?"

"That? That was nothing. Normally he makes people start immediately. Guess you made a great impression on him."

The doors rattled opened and they stepped into the dimly lit contraption.

"No, I mean the inkwell thing. Won't you think to check the bottle for cracks than save the spilt ink?"

"Well, maybe his dad gave him that ink before he died."

Mary scratched her head before continuing.

"Ok, but wouldn't it be safer to keep it on a shelf or in his office? I wouldn't want ink staining my clothes every day. If it really does mean a lot to him, wouldn't he want to protect it from those types of accidents?"

Bobby ruffled Mary's smooth hair until it looked like she just rolled out of bed. Just feeling her hair stick in uneven places made Mary comb out her hair with her fingers, giving Bobby the chance to retort.

"Mary, it's the 20th century. People don't prop momentous like trophies anymore. They want to keep a piece of someone they love close to them, like your rosary. If Joey wants to carry an inkwell, so be it. You're really overthinking about nothing."

The doors slid open again into a hallway. It was narrow and had multiple brownish yellow rugs without a pattern in a feeble attempt to add variety. Rooms were crammed closely together all the way down hall, protected only by Worcester doors with the numbers ingrained on the same metal and shape as her key tag. The two stepped out and were met with a directory displaying painted gloved hands pointing left and right. The left side had the numbers 241-270 and the right side had the numbers 271-300. They turned left and found her room within a few steps. Mary unlocked the door and was greeted with the smell of old wood.

Floorboards creaked with every step and sprang out in places. The bathroom contained a toilet, sink, and shower, but was separated only with a patched yellow curtain. Dust puffed out of the twin bed mattress when Bobby set her suitcase down, making him cough. The only source of light came from a single lightbulb on the ceiling. The tight quarters could make any claustrophobe panic in seconds.

"Well, it's not much, but it's better than nothing, right? Nothing a good spit and polish can't fix," said Bobby, making his way to the hall. "I'll save you a seat in the cafeteria, but be careful on your way over. Last time a newbie got in between the entire music department and the last pot of soup, he ended up losing an arm and his job. It wasn't pretty."

Bobby left and closed the door behind him.

For a moment, Mary wondered if she made the right decision. Was she rushing into a better life, or tumbling into an abyss of problems? Everything seemed to be going fast with no real direction. Just vague orders and no map to reference. No, Bobby was right, she must be overthinking things. Joey has tons of employees and did give her a job despite her appearance. Maybe things would be easier after a few puzzles. After all, the bible did say that one who lives in a glass house shouldn't throw stones at others. She'll probably get used to his quirks in no time.

Mary took off her rosary and dangled it in front of her. In a fit of anger, she threw her rosary into a one drawer nightstand and flopped on the bed, sending more dust into the air. She really needed to get a new mattress before dying from coughing.

* * *

Lanterns swung lazily on the ceiling as Joey walked through an ink filled underground hallway, trudging in rubber overalls. Some ink dripped like rain from the ceiling and onto the walls while others formed globs so thick they looked like columns. It wasn't long before Joey started limping and panting hard. Beads of sweat framed his face and his veins pulsated hard against his skin. He leaned against a wall and took out the inkwell, eagerly taking a few gulps until it was empty. The ink acted like medicine and fixed him just as fast as it came. Picking himself back up, he walked until he reached a door with a large lock on the doorframe. The door adorned a hexagon in a circle hastily traced with more ink. Inside the hexagon was a pie cut circle with a few smudges. Heavy, raspy breathing could be heard resonating inside.

Joey took out a small key from inside his bowtie knot and put it in the keyhole. A loud clank echoed in the hall followed by creaks as the door opened. The light from the hall exposed a thin black figure with horns sitting with his back to the door in ink. More hexagons covered the walls, preventing whatever was inside to escape. The creature turned his crescent shaped head slightly toward the light.

"It's almost time, ink demon," Joey said, bending down and refilling his inkwell, careful not to fall into the ink. "Just think, you'll finally get to shine like the other toons when this is over. Our dreams will finally come true."

The ink demon nodded. In a few short hours, he would finally be loved by everyone.


	4. Chapter 3 How Evil Came to Be

**Guess who has two thumbs and finished a new chapter? Sorry I took so long, this was a doozy to write. So much so that it exceeded 6,000+ words, so I broke one chapter into two chapters. Chapter four will be released sometime this week. I'd also like to give a quick thank you to those that followed, faved, and reviewed this story. I'm so glad that you guys like it! Happy Thanksgiving!**

It took a few tries and a couple of wrong turns, but Mary finally found the cafeteria packed to the brim with employees. Some were sketching with their right hand and eating with their left while others brought the bowl to their lips and drank it like water before bolting past her. A sea of black, blonde, and brown hair blocked any view of a table or the floor. It wasn't until an overeager arm shot up in the air and started waving Mary over. Mary chuckled and scooted between the starving workers, bumping a few heads along the way.

"Bon appetite," said Bobby, scooping spoonful after spoonful of bacon soup like a well-oiled machine.

Bobby pushed a bowl of soup and a roll of bread towards her. The soup was held in a chipped bowl and had a black broth with what appeared to be floating bits of chopped bacon, carrots, and potatoes. The bread was gray and crumbled at the slightest touch, spreading crumbs onto her hands.

"So, how are you finding the place?" he asked, shoving another spoonful of soup in his mouth.

"Not sure, but it's already better than Second Chances. This is the first time I've ever eaten with company. I wasn't allowed to eat with the other nuns in case I poisoned their food with my demon influence."

Bobby stared at her and propped his hand under his chin.

"I'm sorry, but can you slow down for a minute? I'm having a hard time understanding this whole Antichrist hoo-ha. How on Earth are you the daughter of evil?"

He did have a point. He did rescue her without a moment's hesitation, and talked to her without spitting in her face. If they are working together, he should at least know who, or rather what, she is.

"If I do, will you promise not to run away?"

Bobby nodded and leaned in closer to her, getting a smudge of soup on his shirt in the process. Mary took a deep breath, bracing for a barrage of punches and slaps that she was so accustomed to.

"My Mother claimed that I was conceived because a demon tricked her into sleeping with him. After that, she tried to cleanse her body, scarring my face in the process, but failed."

Bobby's jaw dropped into his hand, whether from shock or disbelief was unknown.

"But you lived in a nunnery, right? How are you not a talking pile of ash?"

"The nuns think my human body protects me from crosses and prayers, so you're not going to see me ablaze anytime soon."

Bobby sputtered as though he had a hair in his mouth.

"But how do you know you're a demon? I could say the same thing and it would be just as true."

"Well, I've never seen proof, but the nuns have. When I was born, disaster seemed to follow. Bookshelves collapsed after I entered a room, the church cat got sick when I pet it, and all the candles melted when I said it was hot inside. But the worst happened when I went to elementary school. I crossed the street once while whistling. An hour later, two cars crashed into each other on the same street. They lived, but my whistling left a curse and caused two innocent lives to be gimps forever. So you see, even the most mundane things I do hurt someone, proving that I'm a demon."

Bobby exhaled and rubbed the back of his head, trying to understand what she said. There's no way demons really exist, right? It's impossible.

Bobby pinched a piece of gray bread before quickly stuffing it in his mouth, leaving a large trail of crumbs on the table. Mary tried to eat, but the bread fell apart like a house of cards. After several attempts, Mary furrowed her eyebrows and inspected the table. Her spoon and knife were next to her soup and a lone pencil sat to her left. Mary smiled while she worked out a plan. She picked up the pencil and placed it under her spoon's handle. She slid the bread onto the spoon's bowl using the knife and slammed the raised handle down. The bread catapulted into her soup and stirred until it disintegrated. It was a little gritty, but not inedible. Bobby looked at her with perplexity.

"Hey, that looks fun. Let me try."

Bobby copied her and ate a spoonful, smiling in awe.

"This is pretty good. How'd you think of that?"

Mary shrugged her shoulders and took another bite.

"I don't know. I just looked at it like a puzzle and wondered what would make less of a mess, that's all."

"Well, it certainly beats eating a handful of sand."

"Not really. Sand tends to stick to every corner of your mouth that you didn't think possible while this sticks to the roof of your mouth."

Bobby stopped mid-scoop and lowered his spoon.

"And you know this how?"

"My Mother shoved sand in my mouth once after watering some flowers with holy water. I think it was supposed to teach me to treasure His water or how to be more resourceful. I lose track of what I'm supposed to learn sometimes."

Bobby dropped his spoon, splashing some bread soaked broth on the table.

"Are you sure you weren't hallucinating that? Mothers don't hurt their kids."

"People aren't supposed to sin, but that never stopped them, did it?"

He pulled on the collar of his and cleared his throat before changing the topic.

"I couldn't imagine my parents doing that."

"Really? What are they like?"

Bobby stopped pulling his collar and a glaze covered his eyes. He took his spoon and mindlessly stirred his soup.

"They were great."

Mary just stared at him unfazed. Bobby continued.

"My old man was a big investor in the stock market," said Bobby, pushing bits of bacon to the side. "He played the long game and it payed off for a while. Mom was a house wife and kept me company when he was away. For a while, it felt like I was living in a dream. Grand feasts that took up the whole table, new suits for every hour of the day, and more butlers than we knew what to do with. When the market crashed, so did my life. Dad lost all his stocks and we didn't have a dollar left in our name. I guess the shock was too much for him to take, since he took his car out for one last drive before parking in front of an oncoming train. Mom died of a broken heart not long after."

Mary rubbed her arm and frowned. She pondered what to say as Bobby hid his eyes behind his hand.

"Uh, I hope their deaths were quick?"

Bobby looked back up with fury in his eyes and slammed his fist on the table, making Mary recoil.

"How can you say that?!"

The room grew quiet as everyone seemed to forget about their deadlines for a moment.

"Well, what do you want me to say?"

"How about I'm sorry for your loss? Are you ok?"

"I'm sorry for your loss. Are you ok?"

"No, don't repeat what I said, say it in your own words!"

Mary opened and closed her hands as she frantically thought of Bobby's request. Just say something comforting. Anything should be fine, right?

"I'm sure they didn't die because of you, so don't feel bad. Maybe God had mercy and sent your father to a less painful part of Hell."

Wrong. Bobby stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair with a loud thud.

"You know, I'm starting to see why they call you the Antichrist. How can a heartless demon like you know anything about love?"

Bobby strode out of the cafeteria so fast that Mary couldn't see his feet touch the ground. Everyone resumed their conversations shortly after. Mary swirled her soup with her spoon as she sighed.

"Why can't I just be human?"

Mary finished her soup and left for Joey's office. She wanted to think that puzzles would set her mind at ease, but she had her doubts. Friendship was just one puzzle she never thought she'd solve.

* * *

Mary took the elevator to the top floor. Even though this place was like a labyrinth, Joey's office was impossible to miss. Every directory had Joey's name at the very top written in a flashy font with an equally flashy arrow. A sign above his door in big, bold letters with a star in one of the O's read: Office of Joey Drew. She didn't get a chance to knock on Joey's door before it flew open, showing her all too eager boss smiling.

"Great timing! I was about to send someone to get you," he said as he pulled her into his office and closed the door. "Now then, let's get started."

His office had the same yellowish tint as the rest of the building. The room was wide that not even the furniture in the room occupied 10 percent of its space. There was a large widow just opposite of the door and although there wasn't much of a view compared to the higher buildings outside, it did look impressive. Two wooden chairs were placed in front of his large desk and a brown high back tufted chair sat behind before the window, blocking most of the sunlight and producing a shadow into the office. The Joey Drew Studios logo spun above the window, its reels clanked quietly in the background. Awards and newspaper articles were framed and hung on the walls, boasting his achievements as subtle as a train running through the studio. Joey pulled something out of his desk and shoved it into her arms as he directed her to his bathroom. Soft fabric rubbed in between her hands as she walked.

"This is your uniform. Be ready in five," he said, leaving the bathroom.

She unfolded her uniform to find that it was a black shirt dress with matching black buttons. She smiled as she adored her new dress. She put it on and found that it was a perfect fit. She stepped outside and showed Joey.

"Perfect, just like I expected," he proclaimed.

Joey grabbed Mary by the hand, practically dragging her to the elevator as she stumbled to keep up. They stepped inside, but instead of pushing the brightly lit numbered call buttons, he lifted the Gent logo and pressed a numberless button. Pulleys and cables whirled as the elevator lowered itself past the lobby, traveling several floors below ground.

Joey whistled an unfamiliar ditty while Mary looked at him from the corner of her eye. He caught her glance and looked concerned.

"What's wrong, Mary?" he asked.

Mary flexed her fingers once more and looked down, avoiding his eyes.

"It's nothing, Joey."

Joey gave her a knowing look.

"Let me guess, first day jitters?"

Not wanting to retell her not so wonderful support blunder, she nodded.

"I see. You remind me of me when I first started this studio. In fact, I'll let you in on a little secret."

Joey stepped closer to Mary and spoke in a hushed whisper.

"I was absolutely terrified that no one would take me seriously from how average I look. The fear of losing my dream was eating away at my mind so much that I was sweating like a sinner in church every day. Eventually, I stopped looking at my looks and saw my strengths. Before long, business picked up and I'm now far more successful than ever before; all because I stopped worrying about what people thought of me. So if you ever feel like giving up, stop looking in the mirror and look in your heart."

Mary smiled in agreement, wiping away her tears. Joey patted her back and gently pushed her away. The elevator eased to a complete stop and black metal bars slid back with a clank. There was nothing but a small hallway and four adults in their early twenties waiting for them.

"Joey," they said in unison, surrounding the pair. Two ladies were wearing the same dress Mary had and two men were wearing black long sleeved shirts and matching pants.

"Everyone," said Joey, "this is your new coworker, Mary. Mary, this is Jacob."

"How are ya, Mary?" Jacob asked, the tallest of the group. He was an African American with a buzz cut that perfectly framed his grinning face and brown eyes. He reached out his left arm for a handshake. Mary tried to shake with her right hand, but noticed that his right sleeve was folded and pinned to his shoulder. Jacob didn't have a right arm. She simply switched hands and smiled.

"Evelyn," said Joey.

"Pleasure to meet you, lass," Evelyn said, staring with piercing green eyes and hobbling on a poorly constructed wooden prosthetic. She pulled Mary into a tight embrace, almost leaning on her for support. Freckles covered her fair skinned face and arms, making Mary wonder if she could form a picture via connect the dots. She'd have to ask later. Her Irish accent was thick, but understandable. Her long red curly hair tickled her nostrils, making her sneeze.

"Hana," said Joey.

Hana was the smallest of everyone. She gave a curt wave with her left hand before retreating behind Jacob. From what Mary could see, she looked to be of Asian descent, possibly Japanese. Her right arm and leg were constricted and bended at a small angle, most likely from cerebral palsy. She buried her face into Jacob's back, but she could see that she was almost as fair as Evelyn and had beautiful shoulder length black hair.

"And Louis," said Joey.

"Bonjour, mon cher," said Louis, taking her hand into his own as he gazed at her with his marble gray eyes, kissing it tenderly. The blush on Mary's face could make a tomato jealous. His left shoulder was hiked and his head tilted into it, indicating torticollis. If his slightly tanned skin and flowing brown hair didn't give away his French origins, his flirtatious behavior did.

"Now that we're all acquainted, I can finally tell you what this is all about," said Joey, bringing his hands together quickly to make one loud clap. "I'm turning part of this studio into an attraction!"

Joey smiled wider and jazzed his hands at the end of his announcement. The group just looked at each other questioningly, so he continued.

"I figured since the depression has been so, well, depressing, New York would want something new to keep their spirits up. There are a total of five puzzle rooms that need to be finished, but you'll work on one a day to save your strength for the next one. When you do, you'll take an audiotape and talk about what could be improved and hand them in by the end of the day."

"Joey, wouldn't it be easier to test this with… someone else?" asked Louis, leaning against the wall. "I mean, cleaning break rooms is one thing, but running around like mice is… how you say… unpleasant?"

Joey walked straight to Louis and placed a hand on his shoulder, his warm smile never faltering.

"It could, and you have a point, but between us, I think you guys can do better than the average Joe," Joey said, striding to the middle of the hall. "People take one look at you and run for the hills without a second thought. They jeer in the comfort of their homes while you're left on the dirty streets looking for scraps for dinner."

Mary listened more intently as the others frowned and turned their heads away in self-loathing.

"But you know something? They're wrong. I believe there is something special in all of us; you folks just happen to show how special you are on the outside. You can be the first ones to discover a whole new form of entertainment and be immortalized for years to come. My employees with working limbs didn't want to do this because they said it was a waste of their time and skills."

Mary and the others perked up, regaining their composure.

"And that's why you're here; to show them all that you're not walking attractions, you're people who see potential that they don't. Each of you have been dragged through the embers of hell and back, and if you can live through that, then a mere puzzle should be no problem. By the time this is over, everyone who ever doubted you will be kissing your feet begging for your forgiveness. With my leadership, we can help each other achieve our dreams and more. So what do you say? Will you take the first step into making history?"

Joey stuck his hand out, waiting. Jacob enthusiastically grabbed his hand and shook it rapidly. Evelyn joined in and gave Joey a quick shake and a firm squeeze. Louis took Joey's hand and nodded. Hana peeked from behind Jacob and nodded before hiding again. Mary smiled shyly, pinched the tip of his index finger, and shook it.

"Great! Head through that door and we'll start. There's something I need to show you. Good luck, my dreamers," said Joey, making his way to the elevator. He waved as he ascended upwards, smiling so wide that Mary was sure that his cheeks were hurting.

Mary opened the door as the hinges let out a loud creek. The others stepped through close behind.

"Alright, Joey. We're here. Let's see if we can find what you wanted us to see," said Mary, smiling with newfound confidence and purpose.


	5. Chapter 4 The Ink-cident

**I'm alive! Sorry this chapter took so long, but I hope you still like it! I'm not sure when the next chapter will be, but I can confirm that the Antichrist and the Ink Demon will meet VERY soon. Until then, enjoy! ;3**

 **P.S. This chapter contains disturbing descriptions, so please be careful.**

The miscellaneous group walked into the room, basking in the sights for what could be the biggest revolution of the entertainment world. The hallway entrance had posters portraying characters the studio made plastered on either side. Ink dripped from the ceiling and onto the floor, staining and leaving splash marks. A wooden sign hung at the end of the hall read welcome. Louis walked up to Mary and asked her a rather jarring question.

"So what kind of accident were you in?" he asked.

"Pardon?" asked Mary, completely thrown off guard from her new confidence.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, mon cher; we all make mistakes. As surprising as it is, I made a mistake when I was still in my mother's womb. I accidentally leaned too far for too long, and now I'm stuck looking like I'm posing for pictures all the time. At least you can see my good side. You can see out your eye, right?"

Mary nodded, but didn't answer his initial question.

"Lay off her, Lulu; it probably happened by chance. My arm was trampled off on the boat, and it wasn't my fault. Hana's cord wrapped around her neck, and it wasn't her fault. Maybe she was burned by an explosion or something," said Jacob, turning towards Hana as she nodded while Louis muttered something about Lulu.

"Guys, we're trying to get to know her, not scar her for life," said Evelyn.

"Didn't you say you lost your leg plowing for potatoes?" asked Louis.

"Enough! There's nothing to worry about here, lass. You can tell us what happened; we're a team."

They leaned forward and waited for her answer, but she hesitated. There was no way she could tell them about being the Antichrist. After so many years of ridicule, she should know better by now. Remembering the sting and blisters from thrown stones and whips made her realize why she had to be so reclusive to begin with. Bobby may have been nice at first, but even he was deterred by her heartless words. If she did tell them, they would probably chase her out like Joey's secretary did. She felt foolish for thinking she could be so open about herself with anyone. For now, it would be best if she focused solely on puzzles and avoided telling them anything about her. Mary looked down, twisted her fingers, and spoke.

"I was the accident."

They noticeably cringed with regret, making Evelyn and Louis walk away post haste. Jacob hung his head and apologized, and Hana gave Mary a small bow as her way of making amends. Wanting to distract herself from the anxiety rising in her chest, Mary read the posters and immediately felt the blood drain from her face.

"Bendy the dancing demon?"

"Yup, cute little fella. Kinda dotty that a demon doesn't have a tail, though," said Jacob.

Mary looked down and covered her lower back as she sped-walked down the hall, hoping she didn't magically spawn a tail in front of him but bumped into Evelyn's back in her haste. She noticed that she and Louis didn't react and were stuck in place, so she made her way past them. Their vison of wonder didn't match the reality of the decor. Instead of a clean room full of methodically placed puzzles, trash and debris littered the barren room. Gray dust clung to their wind pipes, their chests burning every time they coughed. Planks of splintery wood laid unceremoniously on the dusty floor. A projector ran a blank reel with tuba sounds emitting from a nearby speaker. Chairs looked as though they were thrown around haphazardly. Two unaligned planks of wood pathetically boarded large holes in the walls everywhere they looked. Joey's logo on the wall was the only thing that looked remotely clean and inkless. They stared, not knowing if they should address the elephant in the room, but Mary made the decision for them.

"I thought this was a puzzle room, so where are the puzzles?" asked Mary.

"Maybe this is some kind of test to enter the puzzle room. There's probably a switch here in plain sight. Hana, help me move these chairs," said Jacob.

Hanna nodded and pushed a chair from side to side as Jacob lifted the planks to the center of the room. As they tried solving a nonexistent puzzle, Mary walked to the Bendy cutout next to the projector. Despite being here for half a day, this was the first time she saw the studio's mascot design. His head was round with two horns at the top that stopped just short of being a complete circle and did not connect with the rest of his body. Pie cut eyes and a toothy smile made him easy to look at compared to the beady eyed, fanged demons depicted in the bible. His torso was pudgy, and he wore a slightly sagged bowtie, boot-like shoes, and gloves with two black circles imprinted on the back of his hands. Mary wouldn't say it out loud, but if she didn't know that he was a demon, she would say he was adorable. For a moment, Mary thought her eyes were playing tricks on her when she saw the cutout wink. She blinked a few times and stared, but the immobile decoration did not move.

"This is stupid," said Louis, waving his hand to at the dust swarming him.

Evelyn flicked his ear, causing him to yelp and retreat from the feisty red head.

"No, this could work. Joey told us to find something. Maybe if we find it, we find the first puzzle," said Evelyn.

Evelyn turned the corner, her emerald eyes glimmering with hope. A few seconds passed before she returned and waved them over.

"I think I found something!"

They stopped what they were doing followed and found a directory on the wall under a light. Evelyn stood proud and smug with her hands on her hips as Louis scoffed to hide his bruised ego. Jacob frowned at being wrong, but Hana held his hand and smiled at her friend, earning a smile back. It seemed this puzzle room was comprised of multiple rooms, making Mary bounce in place as her courage returned. There was an art department, theatre, break room, and something else that threw Mary off.

"What's an ink machine?" asked Mary.

Jacob starting howling with laughter, grabbing his stomach and gasping for air.

"You slay me, Mary. Absolutely slay me," said Jacob between breaths.

Jacob continued to laugh as Mary awkwardly smiled in confusion. Evelyn elbowed Jacob in the ribs, forcing him to stop with a sharp ow. He saw Evelyn tilt her head towards Mary as he rubbed his ribs.

"You really don't know?"

Mary shook her head, letting her smile fall.

"This won't do at all. Sit down for a spell and let your pal Jacob pour some knowledge into you."

Mary grabbed a nearby seat and promptly sat on it, leaning forward with a smile and giving him her full attention.

"You didn't actually have to… never mind. You've seen toons walking around outside and in the moving pictures, right? The ink machine is how they're able to do the Charleston in Central Park, but it wasn't always like that. Toons were hand drawn at first, taking months to produce with only a few minutes to show for it. That was until a client of Gent confided the idea of turning ink not into sculptures, but into living, breathing toons. The idea itself deterred just about everyone that heard it; everyone except Tom. He was the hardest and most stubborn son of a…" Jacob stared at the minor as he realized what he was about to say. Not wanting to swear in front of the youth, Jacob paused as he quickly thought of a different word and said the first thing that popped into his head, "… biscuit. He wasn't popular before this thanks to his stand-offish character. Get it? Character? Like a cartoon?"

Mary and Hana nodded as the other two rolled their eyes at him. Jacob nervously laughed at the tension in the air.

"Heh… anyway, even though everyone laughed at him, he worked day and night until he created the first ever working ink machine. Word got out and cartoon studios demanded them like hot cakes, so they produced and sold ink machines across all 48 states. With just a few gallons of ink, a full grown adult toon could be born in a matter of seconds with everything they need to know about their character, speak, and preform in the same day."

"She asked for an explanation, not a history lesson," commented Evelyn.

"It's fine, it was a great story. You sure know a lot about ink machines, Jacob," remarked Mary.

"Of course I do, Hana dressed up as a man and we worked at Gent as window washers before the layoffs. You couldn't take two steps without someone talking about ink machines. I found one of his blueprints lying around and it taught me all about them. To be honest, I look up to the guy. If a two armed person could make the impossible possible like that, then someone like me can too. No, even better than him! I wish I could have met him at least once to thank him, but no one's seen him after the first machine was made. Probably made a fortune and retired early, lucky dog. I can assemble and disassemble them within three hours blindfolded because of him. It does help that they're small and take up very little space."

"You sure about that, ami?" asked Louis, pointing at a sign labeled 'ink output schedule' at the end of the hall.

They passed a message saying 'Dreams Come True' and several locked doors, including what looked like a metal shutter blocking other parts the directory mentioned to see the board more clearly. According to the board, the ink machine took anything from 14 gallons to 423 gallons. Jacob looked at it puzzlingly and scratched his head.

"That can't be right. I could understand eight gallons for chubby toons, but this is something else entirely."

While they stared at the numbers, Mary stepped over an exposed pipe and entered the ink machine room. It was shaped like a barn thanks to its vaulted ceiling and sliding wooden door, but lacked any hay or sunlight. A balcony with matching banister separated her from the rest of the room and was raised high enough that she couldn't climb over to explore without breaking a leg or two. Crates and barrels surrounded a square hole as if they were guarding a precious jewel with chains attached to the ceiling. If the ink machine was down there, it had to be bigger than an apartment contrary to what Jacob said. The others joined shortly and gawked at the space before looking for clues. Jacob kneeled in front of the lever to the right and hummed thoughtfully.

"This lift could use a few dry cells," said Jacob, already making his way to the shelves and taking a dry cell. While Jacob set it in place, Hana opened the chest, revealing a cog the other dry cell. Hana pointed at in questioningly.

"Just what we need. Good job, Hana," Jacob said, patting her head gently. Hana smiled before he put the final dry cell in.

"Will you do the honor, Evey?" asked Jacob, gesturing overdramatically at the lever.

"Why thank you, Jacie," replied Evelyn as she curtsied eloquently.

Evelyn pulled the lever and stood back. Chains pulled and rattled as the ink machine rose from the darkness. The cube-shaped machine had slightly rusted metal cogs keeping it in motion with more pipes connected under it. Ink stored in a cylinder container with two pipes connected directly to the nozzle. A hiss of steam came out as it stopped. Mary wasn't sure what to take of this. What did this machine have to do with solving puzzles?

Louis let out a low whistle before saying with a smile, "Yup, look at all that empty space, Jacob. It's so small I can barely see it."

"Knock it off, Lulu," said Jacob.

"My name is Louis," he replied, moving to him until they were an inch apart, but forgot about their height difference.

"What's that? I couldn't hear you. Better speak up, Lulu," jested Jacob.

Jacob smiled, but everyone except Mary could see the boiling rage underneath the friendly façade. Louis only grew more flustered, but before lightning started shooting through their eyes, Evelyn got in between them and kept them as far as her freckled arms could reach.

"Will you stop measuring your shoe sizes, buachaillí? You're scaring the lambs. Let's figure out what to do before you both start walking with a limp, deal?"

The two were reluctant at first, but Hana's pleading eyes pierced Jacob's stubborn heart before agreeing, extending his hand to him. Not wanting to be outdone, or another of Evelyn's flicks, he nodded and shook Jacob's hand.

"Alright, what do we do now? Any ideas?" asked Evelyn.

They stood in silence until Mary made her suggestion.

"Well, I think that since machines are supposed to be on, we should find the on button."

"You mean we should turn on the ink machine?" asked Louis.

Mary nodded.

"That's a great idea, lass! Come here, you precious lamb," said Evelyn, bringing Mary into a hug so tight that her spine cracked.

Mary quickly retracted from Evelyn and started shaking her hands, disturbed at the sudden pressure. Evelyn was reluctant to let go but kept herself composed despite not understanding why Mary was upset. With a plan set, the group left the ink machine room with Mary trailing behind a few steps. Upon leaving, they noticed that the metal shutter and the break room door was now open. They explored the new hallway and passed another Bendy cutout. Mary couldn't quite explain why, but she felt like the toon's pie cut eyes were staring at her. She couldn't dwell much more on it as a plank of wood fell from the ceiling with a resounding slam, startling everyone. As they chuckled at their reaction, Mary could have sworn she heard wet footsteps running away.

"Did you hear something?" she asked to no one in particular.

"Just your beautiful voice, mon cher," said Louis as he winked at her.

Mary and Louis took a step back when they heard Jacob and Evelyn scream a second later.

"Sweet Jesus! Don't look, Hana," said Jacob, blocking Hana's sight with his body.

Before Mary could understand what was going on, Evelyn ran back and prevented her from taking another step forward.

"Mary, stay here and don't go in there, understand?"

Louis walked passed her and looked at what caused such a stir before running back to Mary paler than he was a few seconds ago.

"She's right. Petites dames like you don't need to see such ghastly things. How about you stay here while we find the button, hmm?"

Although Mary wanted to join them, she didn't want to see what made them so scared, so she nodded in submission. The others turned to the other room, leaving Mary alone. She turned around and sat on one of the chairs next to a tall slanted desk. Underneath the desk was some blank paper and a ballpoint pen, so she took them and began doodling the wolf she saw on one of the posters in the entrance hall. Mary was pleased with how it turned out but felt a chill go down her spine. Once again, the Bendy cutout leaning against the wall next to her seemingly was staring at her. Mary decided to ignore it, chastising herself for thinking such a thing and turned back to find a message written in ink so fresh that it was running down the paper.

 _You draw beautifully._

Just then, her coworkers' screams echoed from down the hall. Mary sprinted out of her seat to find another Bendy cutout standing on its own.

"Very funny, Mary," said Jacob, patting her on the shoulder.

"What? I didn't do that. I was drawing," she replied.

"Come now lass, it's not nice to pull pranks because you're upset. You should know better," said Evelyn.

"But I didn't!"

They rolled their eyes in discontent and started to walk further down the hall. Mary quickly caught up to them, not wanting to be alone with the cutout.

"So, did you find the on button?"

"Actually, it's a lever. This wouldn't be a problem, but the entire system is different from the blueprints I've seen. Normally you would just press a button and be done with it, but there's a lever and it won't move an inch. Not only that, but there are pedestals with pictures hanging over them as well. We think we need to find some objects shown in the pictures and put them on the pedestals to unlock it, kind of like pressure plates. The whole thing seems kind of convoluted if you ask me," explained Jacob, rubbing the back of his head.

"Now that sounds like a puzzle. What do we need?"

Everyone looked at each other before huddling together like a football team planning their next play. Mary tried, but her strength could not break their impenetrable barrier. Before long, they broke up and faced her with fake smiles.

"How about you wait next to the entrance and we'll handle the rest?" suggested Jacob.

"But how am I supposed to solve puzzles if you do all the work? We're a team, remember?"

"We know, and you are. You'll just help with the smaller parts. You've done your part beautifully, but it's best to let the adults take it from here. You're just not…" Evelyn lingered, trying to find the right word.

"Developed enough?" recommended Louis.

"No… well, maybe a little. That room is too scary for delicate flowers like you to be alone in." Evelyn saw Mary's lip quiver, so she quickly compromised and said, "Tell you what, one of the things we need is an inkwell. How about you bring me that? With the list we have, it would be a huge help. How does that sound?"

To Mary, it was as pleasant as chopping off her legs. She got a job doing the one thing she loves in life, and they're acting like she's going to eat paste behind their backs. Was this going to be her role? Being shown different rooms and not allowed to touch a single thing because she wasn't 'developed' enough for them? Would they be remembered while she faded into obscurity when this was all over? She wanted to cry, but that would only further prove their point. She would show them just how 'developed' she was before they left. She turned on her heel, keeping herself composed and walking briskly to show how brave she was to herself. Louis jokingly made round circular gestures towards his chest and mouthed the word 'developed,' earning yet another flick from Evelyn.

She went back to the directory and saw the art department listed at the top. Where there was art, there must be ink; preferably ink that wasn't leaking from a pipe. More desks and Bendy cutouts were there, but with more order compared to the chaos outside. Various Bendy cels neatly laid on the desks propped in different positions. There was a brightly lit desk in the corner of the room that had a drawing of Bendy sitting down, almost as if he was waiting for something. Mary smiled at the craftsmanship. Even though she was nervous around it, she could at least admire the time and dedication the artist put into the piece.

Something black and square caught the bottom of her eye. She kneeled down and found the inkwell on the desk's lower bench. With unmeasured glee, she took the inkwell and smiled with excitement. She took one last look at the desk to find the drawing had changed. The once sitting toon was now standing with his arms stretched out for a hug. Mary jumped in her skin and ran out of the art department. Mary slowed down to a halt and caught her breath before she found Evelyn outside the ink machine main power room.

"Great job! I knew you could do it," praised Evelyn, settling for complements instead of hugging her youngest co-worker.

"Thanks, it was super easy to find and I wasn't scared at all. We could probably finish this in an hour if I could solve a few puzzles," she said, uninitiated in the art of subtly.

"Now acushla, don't get your hair in a knot. Why are you so enthralled by puzzles anyway?"

Not wanting to give herself away, she chose her words carefully and said, "I've loved puzzles for as long as I can remember. They've helped me cope with my… condition," she pointed at her face, earning her an understanding nob from Evelyn and continued, "There hasn't been a time when puzzles didn't help me get through the day. I still can't believe there's a job like this for people like us. It all feels like a dream."

Evelyn chuckled before saying, "It's like Joey says, you just got to dream and believe. It sounds like you did both hard enough."

"But am I really living my dream if others do it for me?"

Evelyn paused and pandered for a moment. She kept scrunching her face and opening her mouth before closing it again. After a few seconds, she sighed and shook her head.

"You're right. Even though you're a minor, you're still a tester. After this room, I'll talk with the others into letting you helping more."

Mary smiled, relieved that her words didn't make Evelyn despise her.

"But don't think that I won't keep an eye on you, lass. You might go wandering off and solve every puzzle before I blink. We're going to stick together and solve them as the team we are, alright?"

"Thanks, Evelyn."

"You can call me Evey if you want. 'Evey' one does."

Evelyn laughed, but Mary stood there silently, completely baffled at her joke.

"I don't get it."

"Is Mary back yet?" asked Jacob, poking his head out from the power room.

Mary let out a small squeak and jumped back. Evelyn gave Mary a knowing look, not saying a word yet delivered the message. Evelyn handed Jacob the inkwell, and the two waited for them outside. Jacob, Hana, and Louis left the power room with disgruntled looks a minute later.

"Did you put them on the pedestals?" asked Evelyn.

"Yeah, but we need to get the ink flowing somehow. Should be a switch around here somewhere. Then we can start up the main power," explained Jacob.

"I'll do it," said Mary, sticking her hand up like an impatient student in a classroom.

This was it. Her chance to show them she could actually do something had finally arrived. Maybe there were more puzzles in the switch room she could solve all by herself. Mary couldn't stop her mind from running wild.

Evelyn looked at Mary, then asked Jacob with hesitancy, "There's nothing else scary here, right?"

"Nope, just that," he replied, pointing to the room on his right.

Evelyn took a deep breath as she massaged her forehead and said, "Fine, but after this, you're not leaving my side. Meet us by the ink machine when you're done and do not go back there, understand?"

Mary nodded before dashing down the hallway towards the theater room. Evelyn kept staring at the empty spot where Mary stood with a hand on her chest. She felt a slight pressure on her shoulder and turned to find Louis's hand giving her a small squeeze. He gave her a reassuring smile, prompting Jacob and Hana to join them and forming a group hug. They dispersed and went back to the power room, but Evelyn gave one last glance into the next room. Illuminated by two perched candles, limply laid Boris the wolf on an arched table strapped down with leather belts. His eyes had comedic X's where the pupils should be as his head leaned to the side. Ribs poked out from his open chest and his organs were removed, leaving only an empty husk of a toon. The surrounding darkness made the room even eerier with the sound of ink dripping down his chest practically piercing the silence. Evelyn was going to discuss with Joey about his morbid sense of fun when this was over.

Mary skipped down the hallway, her mind running through all of the puzzles she could solve. A Bendy cutout suddenly sprang from around the corner before hiding, breaking her out of her happy stupor. She found the cutout leaning outside the theatre room, fresh ink spattered by its feet. She cautiously tiptoed around it as if it was a sleeping dragon. Before she could step further into the room, the projector suddenly turned on, showing Bendy dancing up and down. A merry whistle rang from the reel, the same tune Joey whistled in the elevator. She managed to hold back another squeak by covering her mouth and ignoring her rising heartbeat. Behind the projector was a machine labeled 'ink pressure' with a valve instead of a switch in the center. She gulped, took her hands away from her mouth, and grabbed the wheel with determination.

Mary's hands shook as she struggled to turn the valve. After a few seconds, it finally gave way, bringing a smile from her success. The moment was short lived, however, as the pipe in the theater room broke, quickly flooding the room with ink. Mary gasped and tried to turn off the pressure, but it was stuck. With little options, she trudged through the ankle-deep liquid, completely soaking her shoes in the process. Mary made it out of the room and took a deep breath. Her relief turned into fear as she heard the other pipes bend and crack from the pressure.

"No," she said.

Mary ran as fast as she could down the hall, her heart banging against her chest and pounding in her ears.

"Wait, don't turn on the machine! Don't turn on the machine!"

She passed the metal shutter and tried to enter the ink machine room, but it was too late. A loud boom erupted from the ink machine room, sparking a series of smaller blasts. The entire floor rumbled and quaked from the ink pressure overflowing the fragile pipes. A pipe exploded next to Mary, throwing her back against the wall and forcing ink down her throat. Mary struggled to move away, but the pressurized ink pinned her down. She helplessly swallowed mouthful after mouthful in a desperate attempt to breathe as ink blocked her airways.

The others ran from the room and spotted Mary. Jacob jumped in front of the squirting pipe and blocked the ink with his back as Evelyn and Hana pulled Mary to her feet. Louis looked back and saw a creature grinning at them.

"I'm getting the hell out of here," he said, running past them.

Mary coughed and stumbled before she and the others ran for the door. The shutter closed with ink spewing from its sides. As they made their way out, the hallway ceiling collapsed behind them. The main room's ceiling held firm, but with the amount of ink pouring in from everywhere else so fast, they were swimming in a matter of seconds. Louis took a deep breath and swam to the door. After a few seconds, he came back up and wiped his face.

"No good! The door's locked!"

They clamored to the door and tried to bust it down. Despite its fragile appearance, it was quite sturdy.

* * *

Upstairs, the building shook, knocking down a few posters off the walls.

"What was that?" asked Wally Franks, mopping the last of coffee stains off the floorboards.

"Probably the pipes again. I think Joey mentioned some construction happening today to fix them," replied a disgruntled animator passing him.

"Geez, this noise is gonna wake the dead! If I have to work under these conditions, I'm outta here," he said to himself.

Amidst the convulsions, an intern lost her balance and flung a hot pot of coffee into the air. Wally nosedived towards it and managed to grab it by the handle. Unfortunately, the handle broke off, scattering shards of glass and more coffee onto the floor. The annoyed janitor grumbled and went to retrieve his metal dustpan from a nearby closet, but found that it was gone.

* * *

After a minute, the room stopped shaking, and the large waterfalls of ink quickly turned into a steady stream of tiny droplets.

"Good, it stopped. I'm sure Joey's shaking a leg for us as we speak," said Jacob.

"That's not the only thing that's shaking. Why is this ink so cold?!" cried Evelyn, wrapping her arms around herself for a shred of warmth.

Not particularly fond of the cold, Mary climbed up the column connected to a table and shook when the air hit her wet body. The room swayed back and forth like a boat as a headache made its presence known.

As Jacob started a bizarre game of horseshoes with ink, a low rattle drew Mary's attention from her blistering headache. The reels on the wall span peculiarly faster now than when they first entered the puzzle room. It even looked like they were somehow getting bigger. It was then Mary realized that they weren't getting bigger, they were getting closer. Mary lifted her head and turned to her coworkers.

"Guys, the reels!"

They peeked past the hall and saw the reels.

"Yes, they're very pretty, lass," Evelyn replied, snickering behind her hand.

"No, they're shaking!"

"Reels tend to do that, muffin. Just ignore them and watch me kick Lulu's butt this round," said Jacob as he splashed ink in her direction.

"It's Louis, you cochon incompétent!" said Louis, waving his fist at Jacob. Jacob chuckled and splashed more ink at him in response, launching a lighthearted fight between the two. Hana swam past them and looked closer at the wall. A second later, she swam back and tugged at Jason's sleeve, desperate to get his attention.

"Not you too, Hana," said Jacob, groaning as he pat the top of her head. "Remember when we took a dip in Coney Island last summer? Just think if this like that and swim a few laps. Joey will be here with warm towels before you can say sarsaparilla," he said, booping her on the nose.

"We'll be fried cauliflower by then!"

Evelyn, Louis, and Jacob rolled their eyes and went back to their game, but Hana lingered. The reels started spinning rapidly and clanking against each other to the point where they were inches away from the wall. Hana frantically swam towards Mary and reached out with her good arm as the others finally noticed the noise with panicked expressions.

"Tasukete!"

Mary leaned down to reach her, but the reels fell into the ink with a loud splash. Electricity pulsated into the liquid from the exposed wires, causing them to convulse and spasm wildly. Hana's eyes rolled into the back of her head as she fell forward into the ink. The ink nearly touched Mary as small waves hit the column, forcing her to climb higher. Before long, their bodies stopped moving, and the reels stopped sputtering. A trap door near the exit gave way, draining the room of ink like a bathtub. Mary watched helplessly as the bodies of her coworkers effortlessly went down the new hole, leaving her alone in uncomfortable silence.

After what felt like hours, Mary felt dizzy and threw up some of the ink she swallowed, losing her grip and sliding down to the table. She wailed as the events played back in her mind like a looping projector, banging her fists against the column. Why was she acting this way? Everyone dies. What kind of Antichrist cries over people? The previously locked door next to the hallway entrance opened, revealing her employer looking surprised.

"Joey…"

Mary tried to continue, but ink clouded her vision and caused her to collapse on the table, passed out and struggling to breathe. Joey examined the room and the trap door, his eyes filled with disappointment.

"Ink demon! Ink demon, get out here," he said in a hushed whisper, but no one came.

With a disgruntled sigh, he picked Mary up and carried her away, slamming the door behind him. Two horns poked out from the corner slightly drooped. The ink demon whined as he went back to the ink machine, leaving a trail of ink behind him. He opened a portal and stepped through it, his footsteps squishy and loud against the ruined floor.

* * *

Light shinned in Mary's eyes as she woke up. She lifted her hand to provide some shade from the offending light. When her vision cleared, her heart dropped down to her stomach at what she saw. Black lines covered her arm, moving like streams of water against her fair skin. She quickly checked herself over to find black lines all over her body. She looked like a cracked porcelain doll. She looked down and saw that she was in a creaky bed with citrine sheets. Matching citrine curtains blocked her from seeing the rest of the room, but she guessed that she was in an infirmary from the eye exam poster on the wall to her left. She turned to find Bendy cutout standing next to her nightstand, which almost made her fall out of bed with fright. A nurse with short frazzled black hair and bags under her eyes pulled away one of the curtains. She was so drowsy that she was struggling to stand. She was holding a dented metal water pitcher, an equally dented metal bowl, yellow rag with holes, and a chipped mirror.

"Good, you're up. This'll make things easier," she said, all but tossing Mary the pitcher and bowl, "Wash yourself off. Joey doesn't pay me enough for that."

The nurse left as quickly as she came. Mary placed the items on the bed and began washing. The cold water made her shiver against her warm skin. She scrubbed her arms vigorously, but the ink wouldn't come off. Sighing in defeat, she put the rag on her face and washed, but no ink came off. She brought the mirror up and froze. Her face also had black lines, but her once white eye was now completely black. Her other eye looked like someone painted her brown iris black. Not only that, but her long straight hair was now cut to her chin, wavy, and black as ink. Wooden creeks and hushed whispers drew her attention before Joey threw aside the curtain.

"How's it going there, Mary?" asked Joey, leaning against the wall. He continued before she could respond, "Do you like your new look? Black's a good color on you. I feel like I'll get swept away with those waves of yours. It's a shame I had to cut such beautiful hair, but I would feel awful if a single strand wound up pulling you into one of my many contraptions, crushing every bone in your body in a matter of seconds. You don't need to thank me, your expression says it all."

Mary could do nothing but stare at him blankly, the shock of what her body had become temporarily paralyzing her.

"Getting down to business, I heard there was a problem of some sort with the puzzle room. I'm just here to let you know that I forgive you."

Mary's curiosity about what Joey meant gave her the strength to respond.

"Excuse me?"

"It's quite alright, Mary. You may have damaged thousands of dollars in equipment, but you're the Antichrist; it's in your nature to maim and destroy," he said as if it was common knowledge.

"How did you—"

"Bobby told me everything. It's important for employers to know everything about their employees, especially if they're the Devil's child. The mere fact that you killed my employees is proof enough."

Mary felt a chill run down her spine at his words.

"I didn't kill them!"

"Then who broke my pipes?"

"The ink pressure."

"Really now? But who turned on the ink pressure?"

Mary brought her knees to her chest and hugged them tight.

"…Me, but…"

"And when you saw ink spilling out, why didn't you turn it off immediately?" he asked, leaning closer to Mary.

She folded into herself more and said, "I tried, but the valve wouldn't budge."

"I doubt that. I personally checked it before you started, and it was as loose as a baby tooth. If it was as stuck as you say, why didn't you call for help?"

"I think I was too far for them to hear me."

"Or maybe you didn't even try. You acted like a wounded puppy and made up some sob story so others would let their guard down around you. When you were alone, you saw your chance to strike. You sabotaged the pipes to kill them and sent their souls to your father like the obedient little devil child you are. You had this all planned from the start," he said, now standing in front of her with an accusatory finger pointed at her face. "After I gave you the opportunity of a lifetime, you took advantage of an aging man in need and turned my happy studio into a graveyard. No wonder your mother left you; I would have too."

Tears welled in Mary's eyes. He was right. She was a horrible person and daughter. Maybe if she wasn't born, then her mother would have stayed an abbess, someone would have managed to turn off the pressure, the pipes would still be intact, and her co-workers would still be laughing to each other now. She gripped the bed sheets as her head throbbed, blurring her vision.

"I want to quit," said Mary with shaky breath.

"Sure," he replied.

"Really?"

"Of course. Who am I to stop you from finding new opportunities? But we'll have to stop your treatment."

"What treatment?"

"Didn't you know? Since we work with ink all the time, it's only natural that we get a touch of ink poisoning from time to time and have since developed our own cure. We've kept the treatment away from the world so well that hospitals still think its terminal. Leave now, and you might as well dig your own grave before the ink stops your heart. Must have slipped my mind during your briefing."

Joey gave her another smile, unfazed by the notion of death. Mary was at a loss for words at this revelation. He stepped to her bedside and kneeled.

"Mary, I believe there is good inside you, but you need a leader to help show that… and that leader is me. With me taking the wheel, you'll go from being a monster into a beautiful, hardworking woman. Doesn't that sound nice?"

She nodded dejectedly as ink filled tears rolled down her cheek. He got up and walked towards the curtain, turning his head slightly towards her.

"So, since you're staying, I need you to complete my puzzle rooms."

Mary looked at him like he spoke a different language.

"Think of this as the beginning of your rehabilitation. I need someone to test them and you need to learn to control yourself. It'll take a week to repair the room and treat your poisoning, so you need to be in tip-top shape. You'll start the Monday after everything's ready. Sleep well, my dreamer."

Joey's footsteps faded as Mary's tears grew. She sank into her not so soft bed and pulled the cotton-thin covers over her head. She curled herself into a ball and cried, ignoring the springs pushing uncomfortably into her side. Her tears stained the paper-thin pillow black until she fell into a restless slumber.


	6. Chapter 5 Left to Wander

"Mother Maria," said a young novice, knocking on the abbess's bedroom door. With no response, she tentatively opened the door and entered.

Nuns and novices slept in small rooms with limited furniture, but an abbess's room was much bigger. Her room was wider with a portrait of the cross over a marble fireplace and a personal bathroom. Aged scriptures and bibles lined her bookshelf with an equally old desk right next to it.

Maria kneeled at the foot of her queen-sized bed in a white nightgown. She kept her hands clasped together and head bowed as she spoke no louder than a whisper. When she finished, she made the sign of the cross and stood before addressing her guest.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you this late, Mother, but I wanted to share some insight I found in our verses with you. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course," Maria nodded with a small smile and sat on her bed as she offered the novice the seat from her desk.

The novice sat, took a deep breath, and said, "According to Corinthians 15:33, we shouldn't be misled since bad company corrupts good character, right?"

Maria nodded.

"And in Corinthians 10:13, temptation can't overtake us except for those around us. If we do, He will also provide a way out when we are tempted."

"Yes."

"So the basis is that we should expel these temptations from our lives immediately, right?"

"Of course. Allowing them to fester within you will leave you lost and wrought with regret." Maria clasped the novice's hand with care into her own and said, "The Lord and I will always keep you safe, but you need to stay on the path He made the day you were born."

"If that's the case, then why did you put everyone at risk for so long?"

Maria sat up straighter and let go of her hand. Her smile formed into a frown.

"What risk, my child?"

"The Antichrist child, of course, though she probably bewitched you to convince you otherwise," she said, placing her hands in her lap. "My Sisters couldn't stop talking about her exile after dinner. I'm grateful you came to your senses before my arrival, but you shouldn't have done so for my sake. For someone meant to protect us, that was reckless of you."

Maria scowled. "I was her Mother just as much as yours. Corinthians challenges believers to examine every area of life through the gospel. Guiding innocent souls with unsettling appearances is one of His many challenges we must triumph."

The novice sighed. "That's the kind of thinking that'll lead to the end of us all one day. I realized after reading that even those closest to God need someone to help them unveil the evil within."

"What are you saying?"

"Mother, your aging eyes need someone young to see what you can't. That's why I volunteer myself to help you banish those that tempt our flock," said the novice with a bright smile plastered on her face.

Maria's mouth went dry as she gaped like a fish. Flabbergasted, she cried, "We do not banish people for petty reasons!"

"Banishing people for their sinful actions is a good reason. Corinthians says to expel the wicked person among us."

"Do you think anyone that looks different is evil?"

"Not necessarily. Those who fall from the path you mentioned without seeking to return are wicked. Even if she wasn't the Antichrist, I think the Lord would agree that those who fall for the seven deadly sins and children born from those sins count as wicked. But that's behind us now. Now we can focus on leading His children to the light and bring order into this chaos you started."

Maria took several deep breaths as her heartrate rose from her self-righteous arrogance. Maria wasn't stupid. She knew everyone disapproved of her choice from the beginning, but she stood firm against their protests. Had she been young and sheltered like the others, she might have excommunicated Shirley on the spot. But being homeless and seeing those less fortunate helping each other in her youth gave her something valuable: the gift of viewing life from different perspectives.

Maria had seen men with stringy hair and sunken cheeks give children the last of his bread. Women with hunched backs ripped their skirts to clothe a stranger's newborn baby. A toothless woman gave her a blanket to keep warm on winter nights. Yes, Mary was hard to look at, but she loved her as though she were her own. Had it not been for the very bible she lived by, she would have told Shirley and everyone else who dared to antagonize her where they could go.

"Choose your next words wisely, child. You don't speak for the Lord," said Maria, her voice low and eerily calm.

"I speak for myself, Mother," proclaimed the novice, standing from her seat, "and I say that I need to help guide you and my Sisters. Don't you see it? He planned for me to join your church and find these verses. Me being here the same day you exiled the child is proof enough. If you let me be your eyes, we can rid the wicked from within and keep ourselves safe. You need me."

Maria stood, looked straight into the younger woman's eyes, and replied, "You're right. I have let a venomous snake stay in this sanctuary for too long. I know what to do now."

The novice smiled and held her hands in satisfaction, boastful that she succeeded. Maria grabbed her shoulders and pushed her out of the room.

"I expel you from this church. Take your belongings and leave in the morning."

The novice's happy demeanor changed to confusion before she said, "I don't understand, Mother. All the signs point here."

"Maybe you should get your eyes checked."

Maria slammed her door closed and leaned back into it until she heard her leave. Once silence took over, she let out a deep breath she didn't know she was holding and slid down to the floor. She reached for her hung up robes and pulled out the flier she took from Bobby. Tears threatened to spill as she held the flier close, crinkling it some more.

For a brief moment, she thought of something that threatened every religion when presented: she questioned her faith. Was this what she needed to do? Was she supposed to do this? Should she suppress her giving nature to others to protect the purity of the church? Was her faith worth losing Mary? For once, her teachings didn't have an answer, but her heart did.

* * *

Crosses covered white walls in a windowless room, each made with different materials and unique in design. A nail popped out, dropping a wooden cross to the tiled floor with a sharp bang. The bottom chipped into a sharp stake, making it dangerous to poke. Two small hands picked up and examined the fallen cross. The cross was simplistic and lacked a complicated design compared to the others. Its smooth waxy texture made stroking it up, down, and across easy. The small hands traced the intricate burls of the fine wood with an index finger.

High pitched screams and rushed footsteps made the hands drop the damaged cross. The small hands were grabbed by a larger, paler, borderline boney hand, pulling them to face its loud owner: Shirley Hammonds. She dawned her usual nun attire, making her crinkled red face stand out more against the dark black and bright white. Shirley was mere inches away from the small-handed individual's face, spittle flying with every word. No matter how hard the hands tried to pull away, Shirley kept them in her death grip, bruising them. Her breath reeked of moldy cheese and rotten eggs while her teeth were crooked and an off shade of yellow. Her brown hair poked out of her vail the more she spoke. For a while, Shirley's voice was indistinguishable; too high and fast to comprehend.

It went on for some time until she took a raspy deep breath and asked with venom in every word, "Why did you do this to me?!"

Pipes broke through the ceiling like cardboard, bathing the floor in ink. Shirley turned to look at the damage. With Shirley distracted, the small hands slipped out of her grasp and left through an open door, meeting darkness as thick as fog. The small hands felt around them, using the cold, wet ground as their only guide. A single light pierced the darkness from above, revealing Maria standing alone with her back turned. The small hands stained in ink reached for her, moving more frantic as Shirley shrieked from behind. Maria turned her head towards the small hands, her eyes half-lidded and stone-faced. She slowly turned back around and left the light, her form swallowed by the darkness.

Before the small hands could follow her, Shirley grabbed them once more. Her nails embedded themselves into their soft skin, ensuring imprisonment. She raised the wooden cross over her head and brought it sharp side down with incredible speed.

* * *

Mary woke up screaming and thrashing. The drowsy nurse was inserting a needle connected to a clear bag of liquid into the back of her hand.

"Calm down, damn it," she complained, pinning Mary's arm with her leg and placed medical tape over the needle. "There. I need a drink."

She stumbled to her desk, pulled open the bottom drawer, and took out a bottle of what appeared to be hydrogen peroxide, but was full of booze. She flicked the cap off with her thumb and drank while Mary brought herself back to reality. When Mary was completely awake, she forgot where she was until she saw her hands. The nursed stopped drinking when she heard Mary sniffling.

"Hey, are you alright? I didn't hurt you that bad, did I?"

Mary wiped away her inky tears on the blanket and said, "No, just a bad dream. I'm fine, miss..."

"Patricia Plaster. Joey calls me Patty, others call me plastered, but I prefer Pat."

She extended her free hand to Mary. Pat's arm swayed, making Mary miss her hand a few times before she managed to get a grip.

"So you're the Antichrist Joey was talking about?"

"Yeah," Mary said dejectedly. At this point, Mary knew the routine. She pulled the pillow close to her chest and closed her eyes.

"Swell." Pat took another swing of booze before haphazardly tossing the bottle back in the drawer. "So what's the mistress of evil's name?"

When she didn't hear Pat scream, Mary opened her eyes and lowered the pillow. "Mary Hammonds, but people call me the Devil's child."

"Well, what do you want to be called?"

"…Mary."

"Then that's what I'll call you."

Mary raised an eyebrow. "You're pretty calm for having evil incarnate sitting next to you."

Pat looked over her shoulder and wobbled next to Mary. She stage whispered into Mary's ear and said, "Between you and me, I've always loved the occult since I was a kid."

Mary gasped as she hugged the pillow tighter. "You mean like witchcraft?"

"Relax, I'm not going to turn you into a toad; I only dabble in a few books here and there. That kind of power is for the most elite of occultists." Pat said in a mocking tone, "No, I have to be a practical, elegant, sophisticated woman like a nurse if I want a husband. Now here I am: alone and overworked with the grace of a hippo. Thanks, Mom."

"But that's worthy of eternal suffering. Aren't you scared of going to hell?"

"If hell is anything like this place, then I have nothing to fear. Besides, at least I have a little hell buddy to keep me company now, right?"

Mary took a deep breath and suppressed her urge to jump for joy. Taking a chance with Bobby bruised her slow-growing self-esteem and she wasn't ready to put her heart on a plate again. She feared of chasing her off, but couldn't stop her desire for companionship. Not wanting to waste a rare opportunity, Mary decided to go with it.

Pat wrenched her arm over Mary's shoulders and leaned in until there was an inch of air between them. "Although, you look a lot different than what my books showed. What gives? Where's your number? Your dog? And what's wrong with your face? Did the big guy spit lava on you?"

Pat used her free hand to rub Mary's cheek, looking for anything that could be demonic. The close distance and forced touch made her stomach turn. Wanting her to stop, Mary pushed her off with a little more force than necessary. Intoxicated from the alcohol, Pat lost her hold and landed on her side with a creak of the bed.

After letting go, Mary examined the needle in her hand. "I have a question: What's this?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. That's an intravenous, but we call it an IV. You're going to have to walk around the building for an hour a day to get that medicine rushing through your whole body. And no, you can't walk for five minutes and sit the rest. If you do, you'll end up like the last guy."

"What happened to him?"

"Ink built up in his legs and he had to have them amputated. Now scoot your caboose and get going."

Pat rolled on the bed until she wrapped the blanket around her like a cocoon, passing out soon after. Mary still had questions but thought it best to walk for now. She stood up and pushed past the curtain to find the exit up a flight of stairs. She gave a small sigh before taking the IV pole into her hands and lifting it one step at a time.

* * *

The bustling animation studio was busier than yesterday. They missed another one of Joey's insane deadlines, making them act like he held a gun to their heads all day. It wasn't that far from the truth. Missed deadlines meant no one got paid. Not getting paid meant standing in a breadline between people reeking of garbage for half a bowl of soup. With nothing but weak coffee and a promised paycheck dangling on a string, they worked through their carpal tunnels and sketched the grinning demon before Joey pulled the trigger. Whether he knew it or not, Bobby kept Joey distracted with every recruit he brought in. This bought them more time to put the finishing touches on their latest cartoon. As long as Bobby kept Joey happy, everyone was happy.

Bobby swung open the studio's double doors with a resounding boom. A few men in overalls, construction hats, and work boots followed close behind. Bobby motioned to the space around them like a realtor trying to sell a house.

"You're going to love it here, fellas. We've got busted pipes, broken elevators, a cracked ceiling; the works. Heck, this is more of a repair man's candy store than an animation studio. And you don't need to worry about the big man screaming over your shoulder. My boss is the kindest, most generous man I know. There's no doubt that he can find something for you to fix today." One of the repairmen stepped forward and broke a hole in the floor. "Or maybe it'll find you."

They laughed it off as Bobby helped pull him out. The men patted their backs at finding work. The Depression was hitting everyone hard with companies firing more people every day. Bobby approached the secretary's desk with the chair turned away from him. Bobby knocked on the desk, smiling as he played the little tune he made with Lauren. The chair swiveled, showing not a near-sighted old lady, but rather a young woman holding way too many papers in one arm while writing with the other.

"Why hello there, Bobby," the young woman said in a nasally Brooklyn accent, dropping everything and leaping over the desk to hug him.

"Betty?" he asked, trying to pry himself out of her tight embrace before he passed out. "I thought Joey got you a job in the sound department."

"He did, but after poor Lauren was canned, Joey asked me to fill in for her."

Bobby's jaw dropped open before he managed to pull himself off of her and staggered out of her reach.

"Joey fired Lauren?"

"Yeah, I was shocked too," she said with sympathy, "but now that I've started, my life here has been smoother than buttermilk. I take a few calls, write a note or two, and go home before dark. Banging those pots and pans all day like a goof left my ears ringing like a bell, but the only ringing I hear now is the phone," Betty proclaimed, chortling loud enough to make his ear ring as well.

"And the papers?"

"To cover my bases. A lazy maid doesn't get paid, you know."

"Right," he said. He slicked his mismanaged hair back, straightened his iron pressed tie, and continued, "Can you tell Joey I'm stopping by his office? I need to see him ASAP. And get Wally to put something over the hole."

"Right away, Bobby," letting out another high-pitched chortle as Bobby rubbed his ear.

Bobby and the repairmen headed upstairs while Betty dialed the rotary phone with her pen. Running a company can make anyone a busy person with little time to spare, but Joey always made it a priority to put aside a few minutes for Bobby. Being his right-hand man and recruiter, it was important that he kept Joey in the loop. This didn't mean that they couldn't shoot the breeze for a minute before finding more help; he just had to be quick about it.

When the elevator reached the top floor, Bobby led the repairmen to Joey's appointment lobby. He didn't get a chance to knock Joey's door as an irritated balding man with a briefcase muttering under his breath stormed out of the room, almost knocking down Bobby in the process. Bobby stared at the man a little bit longer before walking in to find Joey frowning as he rubbed one of the temples of his glasses. Bobby knocked on the door and grabbed his attention.

"Bobby, my boy," said Joey, perking up and putting his glasses back on.

"Another pitch to sell a Mickey Mouse knockoff," asked Bobby, taking a seat in front of Joey's desk.

"Worse. A health and safety board agent," replied Joey. He took out a large brown cigar and started puffing after lighting it to ease his stress. Joey offered one to Bobby, but he declined.

"Again? That's the 10th one this year."

"Yeah. They're saying what was acceptable last year is now dangerous and morally questionable. Next they're going to tell me that I can't smoke inside anymore. I tell you, I'd rather face Al Capone than change one thing in my studio for those grubby dream repressors." Joey took a long drag and let out a large cloud of smoke like an angry dragon as he sank into his seat. "I could really use some good news, son."

Bobby was happy to oblige and said, "That's great because I got the guys you asked for, Joey."

Joey immediately sat straight up. "Fantastic. Give them these," he said, taking out a few manila folders and handing them to Bobby.

If Joey met every new employee that walked in, it would take him at least two weeks before he could get back to work. He decided to save time by cutting the formalities when he could and let Bobby do it for him. He had one drawer in his desk lined with folders organized by urgency. Each folder was full of paperwork and instructions for a specific job. Time is money after all. Bobby flipped open one of the files and skimmed where he needed to send them.

"The puzzle room?"

"Yes, Mary made quite a spectacle during the trial run," answered Joey, standing at the window and twirling his cigar around his fingers.

Bobby's face dropped before he got up and started to walk back to the door. "I'm so sorry, Joey. I'll hand her a pink slip and prepare some bacon soup cans for the other testers."

"That won't be necessary. They quit as soon as I got there."

Bobby stopped mid-step. "I'm so stupid," he whispered. After standing with his foot in the air for a few seconds, he turned around and continued, "I'm sorry, Joey, this is my fault. I never should have brought her here. I will take full responsibility and cover the cost. I'll resign at once and—"

"Bobby," said Joey, smothering his cigar on an ashtray and motioning him to his side. Bobby walked up and stood next to Joey as he said, "There are all sorts of people who would pay big money to have your job. Most are brown-nosers. Others are back-stabbers. But you; you're something else entirely. That's why I chose you and that's why you're staying."

"But sir—"

Joey held his hand up and motioned him to stop. Joey continued, "Son, I need to let you in on something. My sources tell me that the Fleischer brothers are moving to Florida soon. When they do, I'm going to buy that building and expand our studio. The only problem is that I can't be in two places at once. For that, I need someone I can trust wholeheartedly to run things here."

Joey put his hand on Bobby's shoulder as he looked him in the eye and said, "I trust you, Bobby. You've built a family out of this crew that cares for you. I have no doubt that you'll keep this dream afloat."

Bobby wrapped his arms tightly around Joey, crying as he smiled.

"I won't let you down, Dad."

They both paused as his words sunk in. Bobby let him go as he tried to recover his fumble.

"I mean Joey. Not Dad. That would be weird. Nope, only good old Joey Drew," he said, chuckling like he told a bad joke.

Joey gave a hearty laugh in response. "It's not weird at all. You can call me whatever suits your fancy."

Bobby sighed in relief as he left with the folders. He glanced at Joey one more time before whispering, "Thanks, Dad."

Joey smiled as he breathed in contentment. He fiddled with his glasses again and looked at them with nostalgia.

"I think you would have been proud of him, too. He's got your optimism and compassion. A little naïve, but that adds to his charm. I wish you could have been here to see how much this studio has grown. After all, it's thanks to you that I could make my dreams come true. Thank you for everything."

Joey put his glasses back on and called Betty to let the next appointment in.

* * *

Mary held onto the IV pole as she dragged her feet down the empty maze-like halls, wincing in pain every so often. Whether from being slammed into a wall, the ink, or medicine, her body ached the more she walked. Her stomach growled from skipping breakfast that morning, filling the space with white noise. With everyone working overtime, rarely anyone left their stations except gofers to deliver finished material to the next department, leaving Mary alone. With no one to talk to, images of splashing ink and her co-workers' faces kept flashing in her mind with every step she took.

She stopped walking and collapsed before letting herself cry in the middle of the hall. She struggled to breathe. It was as though her insides were being twisted like a wrung rag set to dry. Was this her punishment? Was He going to make her pay for the lives that she took?

As she held herself, she heard small, distant footsteps approaching. Panic raced through her veins at the thought of Bobby seeing her now. With a rush of adrenalin, Mary grabbed her IV pole to help her stand and looked down the hall, but couldn't see anyone. Not taking any chances, she achingly walked further and turned the corner. She pressed her back to the wall, hoping he would pass her. The steps grew louder the closer they came. Mary stood as still as stone, but the noise stopped before anyone appeared.

She stood there for a minute before exhaustion finally took its toll on her. Her legs gave out, forcing her to sit on the floor with a loud thump. She panted as her limbs throbbed, but couldn't hear any more footsteps. She decided to glance around the corner to see if he left. As she turned, two inky gloved hands grabbed the corner and a horned creature with the same devilish smile plastered throughout the whole studio towered over her.


End file.
